


A Public Display of Affection

by Bourneblack



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Butt Plugs, Coming In Pants, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Humiliation, In Public, Light Sadism, M/M, Masochist Tony Stark, Multi, No onscreen aftercare, Objectification, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Tony Stark, Thing are public yes but only Steve and Bucky and Tony notice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23515114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bourneblack/pseuds/Bourneblack
Summary: It turnson.Tony’s knee thumps, hard, against the underside of the conference room table.The meeting room, full of researchers and engineers and, well, who cares at this point? Stares at him.“Restless leg,” Tony says, waving his hand. “Continue.”ORA short story where Steve rails Tony then Tony sits on a plug during a business meeting.---For the stuckony server smut bingo:K5 Sex toys(K3 Hands Free OrgasmC1 Prostate milkingF3 Public Sex)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 35
Kudos: 579
Collections: Stuckony Server Bingo Collection, v hot





	A Public Display of Affection

**Author's Note:**

> *shrugs*

Steve is so deep in Tony’s ass he can taste it.

His cheek is smashed into his keyboard, his suit jacket pulled back just enough to wrap around his forearms to lock them in place, and the legs of it are bunched around his ankles. Steve had actually laughed when he saw him wearing underwear—that’s shreds now. Nothing gets in the way of Steve’s property.

Steve had hauled him up on the glass desk and mounted him like a whore. His feet weren’t even touching the ground. The desk creaked each time he fucked in with all his super solider weight, slamming all of his dick into Tony’s ass like he was trying to break it in half. Movement’s impossible then, he can barely even _breathe_ with Steve’s weight on his back, chest on back. Steve didn’t even have the decency to edge Tony like this: as long as Tony was ready and willing to bend himself over whenever Steve wanted to get his dick wet, Steve acted like he could care less if he came on the carpet or never had an orgasm again. The indignity of not even being worth the _denial_ of his own orgasm. It’s. _Fuck_.

Steve’s hands crack the glass where they grip the edge of the desk. Tony doesn’t even have it within himself to scream; he’s all out of air. The sensation is astounding, exorbitant. Every thrust is too much for him to take, except every thrust he does. Every fuck was fluid, Steve’s dick spearing him into oblivion, the tops of Tony’s thighs digging into the side of the desk, likely to leaving red marks on the skin. They’ll take days to fade. Tony loves it.

It’s irrevocably obscene that Steve came to Tony’s office like this, dick hard enough to protrude from the sorry khakis he calls pants, but it could be argued it was even worse that Tony didn’t even blink when he pointed at the floor by his feet, that Tony had scrambled so hard to kneel his knees still throbbed from where they slammed into the floor. Steve didn’t even let him suck. Just slapped his wet cock on Tony’s face and took a photo of Tony’s open mouth. Bucky’s gonna love this, he said.

Steve likes him desperate, Tony likes to _be_ desperate, Bucky likes to watch. It’s a match made in hell, and he can’t get enough.

Steve doesn’t make noise when he comes, but Tony does when he feels it: a wordless, desperate whine. he’s sloppy, drooling on his keyboard now, and he’s equally relieved and angry that the assault is stopping. When Steve steps off his desk and pulls the baseball bat he calls a dick out of him, Tony arches his hips up, sliding forward to put his knees on the table to present his hole, like that would get the man interested in a second round.

Steve snorts, then smacks his ass for the hell of it, and Tony opens his legs wider, because he _wants_ to be dumped into, full of Steve, and even though he just got a load it’s not enough, never enough. Steve spanks him again, and again, and, oh boy this is going to hurt during his two o’clock, isn’t it, as Steve doesn’t let up, maybe amusing himself watching his ass jiggle, maybe just bored, maybe thinking about a round two, God Tony can only hope.

Tony whimpers when he feels his hole stretch, around, goddammit, fucking silicone. The plug then, to keep him full and open at least for a little while. It could mean Steve’s coming back, it could also mean Steve want to torture him with it, Tony just doesn’t fucking _know_.

Steve leaves. Tony shoves his pants up and tucks in his shirt and uses make up to get rid of the lines of keyboard keys on his chin, but as much as he decorates the outside of his body, that doesn’t change the fact that the inside is filled with Steve, his hole stuffed full of whatever fun thing Steve’s cooked up today, thighs and legs and ass smarting with every movement.

Tony walks half hard to the conference room down the hall.

He’s late. Pepper is glaring at him. Tony waves for them to start. He sits in the chair at the head of the table. He bites back a moan as plug nestles itself in the most obtrusive way possible, obviously on purpose, leaning into his prostate to the point of discomfort and causing Tony’s dick to jump under the table.

A minute of this, Tony makes the mistake of relaxing.

It turns _on._

Tony’s knee thumps, hard, against the underside of the conference room table.

The meeting room, full of researchers and engineers and, well, who _cares_ at this point? Stares at him.

“Restless leg,” Tony says, waving his hand. “Continue.”

The slut inside him is screaming as the toy begins to _pulse,_ begins to throb and roll and otherwise torment his prostate, neglected as it was by Steve.

Well, not neglected now, not when Bucky send him a text that reads, “shouldn’t you be paying more attention?”

Tony looks out the clear glass of the conference room, down the hallway, to the elevator, over to the chairs that line the wall to encourage loitering or conversation or synergy or some shit, and spots Bucky with his leg tossed over a seat arm, looking into his phone. He’s smiling.

Tony turns back to the presentation.

Five minutes in, Bucky ups the ante, the pulsing turning into a soundless vibration—Stark tech—and Tony’s body prepares to catch fire from the inside out.

Ten minutes in, and Bucky hits another level, and, shit, he needs to pay attention to this, get back to presentations and Tony’s nodding along but probably at all the wrong parts but fuck, what can they expect, it’s _right on his prostate_ and Steve’s cum is sloshing around inside of him like a liquid claim.

Fifteen and it hurts now, but in that way that feels like he just can’t get enough, and by then Tony’s lost all semblance of the meeting, which has somehow devolved into a shouting match between his constitutions that he should be helping Pepper control but, well Tony’s really not in control of anything anymore.

Seventeen and Tony creams himself, punching the table to hide the noise, shuddering through an orgasm that milks his prostate through his dick and through his thirteen-hundred dollar slacks, wetting them, then _soaking_ them, because that’s the thing about prostate orgasms, they milk you well and good until you run dry, and then they milk you a little bit more.

And Tony, being Tony, lets it continue to rub him raw. He's still leaking into his pants.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Stark,” someone says. Tony can’t speak, so he pretends his expression is anger and not sweet-fire agony, and the meeting continues on at a quieter tone.

Tony lasts ten more minutes, before he sends a shaky-fingered, blurry-eyed text to Bucky, who slows the plug to a stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr!](https://bourneblack.tumblr.com) I'm currently taking prompts.


End file.
